


Skyscrapers

by wh4t4sh4me



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wh4t4sh4me/pseuds/wh4t4sh4me
Summary: For GypsySisters. I am an evil person. Fear me.... since this is a gift for you, I could obviously not let you read it as my beta... :(





	Skyscrapers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GypsySisters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsySisters/gifts).



> For GypsySisters. I am an evil person. Fear me.
> 
> ... since this is a gift for you, I could obviously not let you read it as my beta... :(

“Would you put that on?”

“Why?”  
Prairie can't hide the confusion that is close to the border of irritation in her voice.  
She looks at the dress on the rim of his bath tub.  
It is blue with white polka dots and casually cut, with a round neck. It looks like something you could wear to a late summer picnic in the park.

Excepts it's not late summer. It's autumn and late evening. And the chances of her doing a picnic in the park are exactly zero.

“Please.” He looks at her. Something in his behaviour does not tolerate refusal or questions today. It is not like he is threatening her but there is a certain urgency to him since he brought her up from the basement. She can't put her finger to it.

“Fine.”  
Hap nods at her words, smiles and closes the bathroom door to give her the privacy she needs.  
As she changes, she can hear unusual sounds from outside. She had noticed the smell before of course; freshly made food, something fried.  
Did he cook by himself today? What would he need her then for? She only cleaned yesterday.

She frowns, suspicious, while getting out of her top, unable to put any sense to his behaviour.

The dress is not a perfect fit and hangs a little lose around her hips since she lost a lot of weight in the last months.  
Although it is a nice feeling to get out of her worn-out clothes for once, there is no reason whatsoever for him to buy her anything. - It strikes her as odd but not alarming. She knows him well, knows his somewhat twisted gallantry. He would not harm her.  
Nonetheless, she has to admit that she would have liked the clothing article under different circumstances and she wonders if someone helped him to pick it out.

She looks in the mirror and sighs, bewildered at him and whatever game he is playing right now. Ruffling through her hair, she turns around and steps out of the bathroom.

The corridor is only dimly lit and she slowly walks in the direction of the kitchen, the origin of the light. The smell of food gets stronger.  
Prairie stops abruptly when she turns around the corner and nearly stumbles back again, eyes widening with surprise and shock.  
What she sees before her is more than she can process at once.

A table is set for two. A candle is burning. He seemingly did go out of his way to prepare what appears to be steaks with a side of fresh salad.

She stands like a deer in the headlight, mouth open, trying to make sense of what she is seeing.

“Good, you changed.” 

She turns around at the sound of his voice.

“…You too.” is all she can say.

He is wearing a white shirt, the first button undone and an expensive black suit from the looks of it.  
He walks around her as she still stares at him and draws one of the two chairs back. He looks at her invitingly.

She moves, sits down slowly and watches him turn on quiet jazz music, before he returns to the table with a bottle of wine.

“…What is going on?” she asks.

“Care to test the wine?” 

He sounds casual, unfazed and raises an eyebrow at her. When she does not answer, he pours some of the red liquid in her glass. “Please, go ahead.”, he says.

She repeats her question but he still does not answer. They look at each other in silence for a few seconds, his face is sincere, hers angry.

She grabs the glass and gulps down the wine. It's heavy and sweet and she grimaces at the alcohol on her tongue.

She sets the glass down and proceeds to look at him angrily.

“To your liking?”

“What are you playing at? What is all this?”

He sighs and refills her glass, before pouring one for himself. Jazz music fills the silence between the both of them.

He extents his arm. “I'll drink to you.”, he says. She shoots him a glare and takes another gulp of the sweet wine.

“…Is there something _particular _you want to celebrate?”__

____

“Not really, no.” 

His chin rests in his hand and he stares into the dark outside of the kitchen window. He seems carefree and yet strangely…melancholic. His face is open and yet she can sense that he is not truly there.

“We should eat. The food is getting cold.” 

She hesitantly follows his example, picking up her cutlery. 

The steak is delicious; tender and pink inside and melts on her tongue. It goes especially well with the wine. She can't help but close her eyes in joy. He watches her over the rim of his glass, taking in her reaction and seemingly enjoying himself too.

They eat in silence. She devours her meal, still not sure what exactly is happening but unwilling to pass up an opportunity for good food.  
If he is giving this to her, she sure as hell is going to take it.  
He, on the other side, is barely touching his plate and that makes her nervous somehow. Prairie slows down, puts down her fork and takes a sip of her wine.  
She frowns and watches him play with the hilt of his glass. She does not know what to say.

“I didn't know you could cook that well, Hap.” 

“Well, if I put my mind to it...” He shrugs. “It is not that difficult if you have precise instructions to follow.”

“Okay.” She snorts, half-amused, “Now, really? Why are we eating dinner together? Some breakthrough in your…study?” The passive aggression is dripping from the last word.

Hap looks at her with those blue, melancholic eyes and Prairie meets his gaze, unwavering. The wine is getting to her head and her cheeks feel flushed. She knows that she probably should stop drinking, but she isn't.

“You look very beautiful tonight. The dress suits you.”

She inclines her head. “We are not doing this.”

“We are not doing what?”

“You know what I mean, Hap.”

He stands up and she watches him walk around the table and extend his hand to her. The candlelight shines in his eyes. 

“Would you dance with me?”

She looks up to him, her captor, her enemy. He is so calm. Like a man that had ultimately accepted a terrible truth.  
And there it is again. His voice is not tolerating refusal.  
Or at least he is giving her the feeling that her dancing with him was incredible important, so important, she did not dare to ask why or decline.

She gets up and hesitantly puts her hand into his as a new song starts. His fingers are warm and strong and they help steady her as the alcohol demands his tribute.

“I…I can't really dance.” she admits.

“ No problem.” 

He intwines their fingers and places her other hand on his shoulder before he puts his own hand on her back and starts slowly spinning with her through the room. She feels incredible clumsy and awkward and kicks him twice by accident but he does not seem to mind.  
He keeps on guiding her, holding her upright with his strength and she can feel that she could fully lean on him, if she wants.

It is a slow song with a piano and a prominent bass line. The singer’s voice sounds hoarse and sad and she tries to pay attention to the lyrics.

'…in all the madness  
I thought that i was seeing straight  
It ain't always pretty but it seemed there was no other way…' __

__

She turns her head to find Hap looking directly at her. There is so much hurt in his eyes that she nearly stops in her unsteady steps.

“Why are we dancing in your kitchen after a candlelight dinner, Hap?” 

She is no longer irritated or angry, she just wants to know what is going on. She worries, for herself, for the others,… for him.

'…And i guess all i ever loved  
Was standing right before my eyes…'

The chorus begins and he still hasn't answered her. She stops but he doesn't let go of her.

“I guess…” he begins, “I'm repaying a dept I owe.”

“To me?” She laughs, not believing his words.

“To you, to myself. Doesn't matter.”

He starts turning her again and pulls her closer to him. His face is now next to her ear and she looks at his neck and shoulder while they dance. She notes his strong aftershave and immediately feels herself reminded of New York and when they first met.

'...So skyscrapers please forgive me  
I stand here a penitent man  
Oh skyscrapers i'll never look down again, again…'

She thinks to have seen lights outside the window.  
…Probably only a reflection of the candle.  
…  
No! There they are again. Between the trees outside of the window.

He spins her around before she can look closer.  
The song carries on, gets more intense.

Then, the shrill noise of the door bell cuts through the music and she jumps at the sound.  
He stops them both slowly and she can only stare at him as he cups her face with both hands.

“I'm so sorry.”, he says.

“Hap!” She sounds alarmed. “There is someone at the door.”

“I know” he says, “I know. They are… I know that they are here.”

She can see it now. The lights outside. They are blue and red.  
The doorbell can be heard again, as well as firm knocking.

“Hap?” Her voice has climbed an octave. “Hap??”

He pulls her close, embraces her in his heavy arms while she can hear the sound of wood breaking.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbles it over and over again. “No, don't cry. Please don't cry.”

Prairie can't help it. Heavy tears stream down her face.  
There they stand, in the middle of the kitchen, illuminated by candlelight as the song fades out untunefully and he tries to calm her.

His eyes search hers and he slowly blinks, smiles half-heartily and uses his thumb to brush a tear from her cheek.

“Why?” She does not have the voice to say it but he understands anyway.  
He leans forward and places a kiss on her temple.

“You look wonderful tonight.”

It's the last thing he can say before two tasers hit him. One in the back, and one close to his hip.  
He makes a guttural noise and twitches like a marionette as the voltage runs through him before he finally falls to the floor.

She starts screaming.

She is still screaming when they drag his limp body away and cuff him.


End file.
